Once Upon a Matchmaker Read Online Free

Micah’s hand with her own, she looked intently into his eyes. “Well, I won’t be able to have that ‘nice meal’ unless you promise to tell me what’s wrong the moment we get home.”
    It was a compromise he could live with. Micah nodded. “Done.”
    “I’m going to hold you to that,” she told him.
    Though he would have wanted it otherwise, he knew that the woman was as good as her word. He wouldn’t be able to put her off.
    “I know that.”
    For now, Sheila relented. “All right, then.” Sitting back in her seat, she opened the menu again out of habit. “Let’s get this party started.”
    “You didn’t answer my question, Aunt Sheila,” Gary reminded her, shifting in his seat restlessly.
    The boy had the tenacity of a pit bull. For a second, Sheila’s eyes shifted to Micah.
    “Definitely the makings of a lawyer,” she said, agreeing with her nephew’s assessment of his older son. Leaning her head on her hand, she looked directly into Gary’s sky-blue eyes and asked, “And what question is that?”
    “Do you know those ladies?” Gary repeated with just a trace of exasperation. He slanted a look at his father. “The ones I can’t point at,” he added.
    “I know some of them. The lady who waved sold me the condo I live in. Those two other older ladies are her oldest and dearest friends.”
    “Doesn’t she have any young friends? Besides you,” Gary asked. His smile was broad and earnest.
    Micah’s older son was seated to her left. Sheila leaned over and gave the boy a long, heartfelt hug. “Best present I ever got,” she told him.
    At any other time, Gary would have preened at the compliment. But right now, he was dealing with a more immediate problem. “You’re squishing me, Aunt Sheila,” the boy protested.
    She released him immediately, making a show of raising her hands and removing them from his small body. “Sorry, I got carried away,” she apologized. There was a glimmer of humor about her mouth that only Micah took note of.
    Greg scrunched up his face. It was clear that he didn’t understand the expression.
    “No, you didn’t,” the younger boy told her. “You’re right here. Nobody’s carrying you away.”
    Greg looked around as if to make sure no one had sneaked up on them. As he scanned the room, he made eye contact again with one of the ladies at the other table. She was looking right at him.
    Shy, he shifted back around and hid his face in his hands.
    “What’s the matter?” Micah asked his son. What had caused this reaction, Micah wondered.
    “That lady, she’s looking right at me.” Greg giggled, saying the words into his hands.
    It was Micah’s turn to look at the women at the table in question. He assumed his sons were both looking at the same table. Scanning it quickly, he saw that there were eight women seated around the table. Seven appeared engaged in conversation and the eighth, a blonde—Greg had to be referring to her—was looking in their direction.
    His eyes met hers unexpectedly and for a very long second, neither of them looked away.
    She had a nice smile, he caught himself thinking. He saw her mouthing something and belatedly realized that she was saying, “Cute little boys.” Not knowing what else to do—and ignoring her seemed rather rude—he mouthed, “Thank you.”
    Her smile curved even more, pulling him in a little further. For some reason, he was having a difficult time looking away. There was something almost hypnotic about the smile, yet incredibly soothing at the same time.
    “How come you’re not making any noise?” Greg asked, then explained the reason for his question. “Your mouth’s moving.”
    “He’s using his inside voice,” Gary informed his brother importantly. Then, raising his chin, he added, “I can hear him.”
    Even at four, Greg knew a lie when he heard it. “No, you can’t,” he insisted.
    “Can, too,” Gary shot back, ready to go to war against his worst enemy/best friend in the blink of an